


waving through a window

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Feels, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, BAMF Magnus Bane, Best Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: “How can you read this? It’s dreadfully dull.”Alec smiles and sits back down, yanking the textbook gently out of Magnus’ hands.“It helps that Izzy drew all over it. It gives me something else to focus on.”“Yes, I did notice that,” Magnus says, an amused lilt to his voice. “The caricatures of Jace are particularly good. He looks rather fetching with wings and long flowing hair.”“You don’t need to tell me that,” Jace says, strolling into view and hovering a few inches above the ground. “I look fetching with everything. Should I grow my hair out, do you think?”OrThere are only a handful of people that never develop superpowers, never get their gifts. Alec is one of those people, and he hasn't quite learned how to live with it yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is just setting things up, but basically in this world, everyone has superpowers, or gifts, and Alec doesn't have one. There are battles and high school drama, and Magnus and Alec are best friends who love each other very much. I'll flesh things out more in the next chapter, this is just setting the scene. I really hope you like it! Thank you!
> 
> Title and first paragraph is from Dear Evan Hansen.

_On the outside, always looking in_  
Will I ever be more than I’ve always been?  
‘Cause I’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass  
I’m waving through a window 

Alec feels inordinately self-conscious as he lifts his juice box out of his bag and pokes the straw through the top. He knows either Izzy or Jace is going to see it and burst out laughing. Possibly both, if he’s unlucky enough, which seems to be a running theme in Alec’s life. He gets the humour, really. He’s a fully-fledged seventeen-year-old, almost eighteen, taller than anyone in their year, and he’s sipping daintily from a little carton of apple juice that’s dwarfed in his ‘giant man-hands’, as Izzy calls them. The only one who won’t laugh is Magnus, but even he will probably quirk his eyebrow and look amused. 

There’s a burst of noise from his left, over by the picnic tables, near the glass wall of the cafeteria. Alec glances up to see a kid in plaid and a red-headed girl panicking over a flaming textbook. The boy – Alec thinks his name is Simon, and he’s pretty sure it’s the same boy that Jace has some kind of feeling towards, although it’s hard to tell whether it’s a pleasant or unpleasant feeling – is waving his hands around as little spires of fire shoot from his fingertips, casting shadows over the sunlit grass. The flames are bright blue and growing in size, dancing like gleeful demons along bitten fingertips. Alec leans back against the tree and watches calmly. 

See, this is the problem with schools shoved to the brink with superpowered people. There tend to be a lot of accidents. 

Not that there’s a lot of choice in this matter, since ninety nine percent of the population are born with superpowers. Most powers don’t develop until the age of seven, which gives most parents a reprieve before the real fun begins, and their kids start mind-controlling them into giving them the last cookie. There are some powers that don’t develop until the teenage years, and those tend to be the bigger, more powerful gifts. 

There are only a handful of people that never develop superpowers, never get their gifts. 

Alec takes a particularly loud slurp of his drink and gets up, sighing. He deposits his empty carton in the bin on his way over to the fire point, positioned by the door to the cafeteria. He catches sight of the crowd of people pressing their faces up against the glass cafeteria wall, staring through the glass and laughing as Simon basically shrieks and flails, ignoring the red-headed girl’s attempt to calm him through soothing words and petting motions. 

Alec heaves the fire extinguisher off the wall, pops the pin, trudges back to the textbook, and douses the flames in a calm, business-like manner. Foam sprays everywhere, to another chorus of laughter from the peanut gallery. The flames die with a crackle and a sizzle, and Simon stops flapping his hands in favour of outright staring, mouth hanging open, as Alec puts the fire extinguisher down on the floor beside a plume of black smoke. The last of the sparks fizzle out, leaving Simon’s hands clean and unblemished. The textbook smoulders innocently on the floor, smoke dissipating in the air.

“Dude,” Simon says, and then simply gapes at him. He turns to his friend and makes a helpless gesture. “Clary, tell me why the hell didn’t we think of that?” 

Clary rolls her eyes. “I did suggest it, but you were too busy panicking to be sensible, and I was too busy trying to stop you from setting fire to anything else.”

Simon scratches his nose a little sheepishly, and then turns back to Alec. “Thanks, man. I owe you one. Seriously, if the power thing doesn’t kick in soon, at least you know you’ve got a great future as a firefighter.” 

Alec flinches, and all the blood drains from Simon’s face, leaving him horrified. He obviously didn’t mean to say it, but it still stings, the reminder. Clary elbows him sharply in the stomach, but Alec is already turning away, heading back to his bag and ignoring the painful, clenching feeling in his chest. He can hear Simon and Clary squabbling together behind him, arguing about whether or not to follow him and apologise. He sincerely hopes they decide not to. 

There are only a handful of people that never develop superpowers, never get their gifts. Alec is one of those people. 

Alec is an expert at controlling his emotions when it comes to his lack of powers. He has years of practice under his belt, and he has family at his side that don’t care that he’s powerless, which makes it easier to focus on something else, something other than the crushing weight on his chest when he thinks about the fact that everyone else he knows, and even those that he doesn’t, have a power. Everyone has something. Everyone had some sort of gift, like creating fire, or super strength, or flight, or even something small, like lights flickering on when you enter the room. 

The point is, Alec has had time to get used to it. He should be used to it by now. And yet, there’s still this suffocating feeling every time he thinks about it, every time it gets pointed out, even in the most innocent of circumstances. 

He comes to a stop a few feet from the tree and smiles, the feeling dissipating slightly. Magnus is currently sprawled elegantly on top of Alec’s coat, leafing through Alec’s textbook with a crease between his eyebrows. He’s dressed in the usual school blazer and trousers, shirt neatly buttoned, exactly the same as everyone else, but there’s still something there, something dazzling that takes the breath out of Alec’s lungs. 

Magnus spots him and leans back, smiling softly. The crease between his eyebrows disappears. “How can you read this? It’s dreadfully dull.”

Alec smiles and sits back down, yanking the textbook gently out of Magnus’ hands. Magnus leans into him, warm at his side, and that suffocating feeling fades entirely.

“It helps that Izzy drew all over it. It gives me something else to focus on.”

“Yes, I did notice that,” Magnus says, an amused lilt to his voice. “The caricatures of Jace are particularly good. He looks rather fetching with wings and long flowing hair.” 

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Jace says, strolling into view and hovering a few inches above the ground. “I look fetching with everything. Should I grow it out, do you think?” 

“Please, resist the temptation,” Alec says. Jace floats forward gracefully – Jace does everything gracefully. He can fly, which is the main part of his power, the big part, the part that everyone oohes and ahhes at, but his real power is controlling the air around him. He can twist it and bend it to his will, and it affects the way he moves, making every twitch somehow sinuous and fluid, like liquid. He’s like an acrobat, unlimited in his potential. Alec has seen him ricochet off walls and sprint across ceilings and shoot around the room with his arms held aloft, laughing wickedly. He’s seen him dance, too, seen every step come naturally to him as he spun Izzy, their sister, around the room, shifting like dandelions on a breeze.

“I think it would suit you,” Magnus says brightly. “I could braid it for you, if you like, thread some silver in it. The world is your oyster.” 

“On second thought, I think I’ll pass.” Jace lands lightly on the grass and sits down, tucking his feet under Alec’s thigh. Alec swats him away, but he just digs his toes in harder. Magnus watches them with a small grin before stealing the apple out of Alec’s bag and taking a big bite. 

“You could have just conjured up your own,” Alec says, exasperated. 

“I could have,” Magnus agrees, taking another bite and wiping away the juice with his thumb. Jace snorts beside them, taking the textbook to look at the pictures Izzy had drawn. 

“I give up,” Alec tells the sky, tipping his head back against the tree. Another snort, a laugh, and then Jace is popping the lid off a pen and doodling in the margins of the textbook, while Magnus calmly finishes off the apple. “What class do you have?” 

“What class do we have?” Magnus corrects him, handing the core back to Alec. Alec barely has to concentrate as he flings the apple in the direction of the nearest bin – it doesn’t even skim the side as it goes in, and Jace gives a mock-cheer, pumping the air with his fist and somehow managing to make the action look derisive. 

“The answer is Battle Training,” Jace drawls, “which is always a delight.” 

“You love Battle Training,” Magnus says. “You get to hit things with sharp, pointy objects. It’s the highlight of your day.” 

“Yeah, but Alec doesn’t. Alec hates it.”

“That’s because I have to sit in the corner and study maps, which is pointless since that’s also what that other kid does, the one with the Navigational power. Maybe I want to hit things with sharp, pointy objects. Maybe I want to make a fool out of myself trying to get Simon’s attention while I flounce around with a spear.” He aims the last bit pointedly at Jace, who ignores him. 

“Do you?” Magnus asks with interest. 

“No.”

“Not in front of _Simon_ , anyway,” Jace says, smirking. 

“I want to find whoever told you that you were funny and beat them with a stick.”

Magnus still looks intrigued, so Alec hastily changes the subject. 

“Did you see the news this morning? There was another battle on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“More and more villains are popping up,” Magnus says, his eyes darkening. “People who think they can use their power over other people, to bring fear instead of joy.”

“I’ve heard that there’s a new wave of villains rising, calling themselves the Circle,” Jace adds, a frown on his face as he watches Simon and Clary walk away. 

“There already was a Circle,” Alec says, thinking back to the books he usually buries himself in during classes he can’t participate in. There are a lot of classes that Alec can’t do much in, so he immerses himself in theory, reads languages and studies history. He’s slowly working his way through the school library. Jace and Magnus look at him in surprise, so Alec continues, “There were lots of Circles. People who think there should be a hierarchy of power, that those with the wrong ideals or weaker powers should be at the bottom of the ladder. They’re all about control. They were founded back when the very first powers came into existence, and every few generations, there’s been a new uprising.” 

“I guess it’s our turn, then,” Jace says. “Maybe we’ll finally get to do something. Maybe they’ll ask us to fight.” 

Magnus rolls his eyes and gets gracefully to his feet just as the bell rings. 

“You came out of the womb fighting,” Alec says, grinning. “And I highly doubt they’re going to ask a bunch of teenagers to help them fight off powerful villains. That’s a job for the adults, Jace, you should know that by now.” 

He doesn’t really believe it – he’s seen what some of his classmates can do, but he can’t deny that the thought of Jace and Izzy and Magnus going out to fight makes him feel sick to his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to just sit around and watch, but there’s not much he could offer in the way of help, either. 

It stings, that he can’t help. He knows it disappoints his parents, and sometimes it bums his out that he knows exactly what his future looks like. It looks dull and leaden, hanging there over his head like an overcast sky. He has no powers, in a world where almost everyone else does. There are only a small percentage of people who don’t have gifts, powers, some sort of ability, and not a single one has risen to fame or done extraordinarily good deeds or been featured on the morning news for stopping some kind of mutant lizard creature. Not that Alec wants any of those things, no, he’s happy with living as normal a life as he can, but he also doesn’t want to be so apart from everybody else. He’s tired of feeling like everyone was simultaneously ignoring him and staring at him at the same time, like they were waiting for something whilst trying to pretend he didn’t exist.

He just wants to help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Better get your ass in gear then, big brother,” Izzy says, pushing him out of the door. “You wouldn’t want to keep the love of your life waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long! I'm not going to promise regular updates as I'm hopefully going back to college really soon, but I'll try and work on this as soon as I can. I also need a new laptop, so there's that. Thank you so much for such a lovely response to the last chapter, I hope you enjoy this!

Alec stretches out along the bench at the far wall, watching moodily as his classmates line up. There are targets displayed at intervals throughout the Battle hall, which is a long and narrow building attached to the end of the school. One wall is covered in various shining weapons, and there are storage cupboards along another that are filled to the brim with different types of equipment. 

Diana Wrayburn, their training tutor, stands proudly at the head of the room, her hair pulled back into a sleek knot, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a pencil skirt. She surveys them all intently, and then begins doling out instructions that Alec can barely hear; he’s too far away, directed to the back of the room as soon as he entered it. Magnus turns as she’s speaking and throws him a wink and a comforting smile, before Catarina snags his attention. 

Catarina is a beautiful, dark-skinned girl with brown braids and a pleasant, if a little blunt, demeanour. She also has a beautiful power, a healing power, which allows her to mend bones and stitch skin back together with a wave of her hand. Alec doesn’t know much about her, despite the fact that she’s in his tech class, and one of Magnus’ other best friends, besides Alec and Ragnor. She catches his eye now AS Magnus chatters away and gives him an indescribable look, and Alec feels abruptly self-conscious, turning away. 

He focuses on the class instead, eyeing the targets with mistrust. He’s never used a bow before, and likely won’t today, because the tutors and professors are a little wary when it comes to him. They seem to think that just because he’s powerless, he’s going to impale himself on the first sharp object he sees, but Alec knows himself. He knows he’s quick enough to keep up with Izzy, strong enough to spar with Jace at home, and smart enough to at least match Magnus when it comes to wit, even if he can’t fight back with powers. He knows he’d be able to handle most weapon with a little time, a little practice.

There’s an itch under his skin as he watches his classmates pair off and line up, examining their bows, buckets of arrows waiting at their feet. He wants to be standing beside them, working with them. He wants to learn something worthwhile, instead of burying his nose in textbooks full of information that he’ll never use again. 

“Mr Lightwood.” 

Alec glances up and can’t help the surprised look that washes over his face as Diana draws close. She instructed them all to call her by her first name during their first class, so Alec does, nodding at her. 

“Diana. Is something wrong?” 

Diana smiles wryly. “The fact that you think something has to be wrong for me to address you as a teacher to a student tells me that I’ve been making many mistakes with your education. I have something for you.” 

She holds out the bow, and Alec stares at it. Diana makes an impatient noise and pushes it into his hands, and he takes it, leaning back on the bench. It’s heavier than he thought it would be. He holds it for a moment, and then looks up at Diana, uncomprehending. 

“Sorry, what am I supposed to do with this?” 

“Shoot it, preferably,” Diana says dryly. “Projectile weapons are still dangerous, of course, or we wouldn’t use them, but I’ve had less accidents with these than hand-to-hand weapons over the years. Besides, I trust you not to behave immaturely when you’re holding it. Do you know how to use it?” 

“I’ve read about them,” Alec says awkwardly. He still can’t quite believe that he’s actually holding a weapon in school. He glances around, but Jace is preoccupied with showing off to a bunch of nearby girls, and Magnus is busy with Catarina, talking quietly to each other as they leaf through their collection of arrows. Nobody else is watching him, or Diana. 

“Well, if you require help, then come to me,” Diana says. “You can use the target closest to the door. Please, try not to shoot anybody important, and that includes yourself.” 

Alec scowls, but she’s already walking away. 

“I’m not a complete moron,” Alec complains quietly to himself, but there’s nobody to hear him. He glances down at the bow again, still not quite comprehending the situation, and then he gets up and pads quietly to the door, where there’s a single target set up, a little way away from everyone else. A bucket of arrows waits beside it, and Alec moves to collect them before stepping back a couple of feet. 

“Start small,” Alec says, and selects an arrow. They feel light in his palm, and the feathers are a little grainy, but mostly soft, coloured red. It takes a few moments to work out exactly what he’s doing, but soon he has the arrow lodged in place, the bow held up to his cheek. He aims carefully. 

_Hit the middle. Hit the middle._

He lets the arrow fly. There’s a soft thwip, and then a thud, and Alec blinks, stunned. 

The arrow is poised perfectly in the middle of the target, nestled in the bullseye. He lowers the bow and glances around, but nobody is looking at him. His classmates are all focusing on their own targets. The only person nearby that Alec knows is Simon, and he’s too busy trying not to set fire to his arrow to pay attention to Alec. 

“Beginner’s luck, maybe,” Alec mutters to himself, and then plucks another arrow from the bucket. He has four left. 

The second one goes straight through the first arrow, ripping it right down the middle and burying itself in the target. 

Alec gapes as bits of feather fall down to the floor, and then glances down at the bow in his hands. He hadn’t even done anything, all he’d thought about was hitting the target in the middle. He barely knows how to use a bow. He glances around again, but still nobody’s noticed anything. Jace is doing some kind of complicated flip in the air as an arrow arcs towards the target, hitting the side and bouncing off of it, and most people are whooping and laughing in between their own work. Diana looks kind of despairing, but resigned, which is how most people look around Jace. Magnus has his head bent towards Catarina, smiling softly. 

“Jeez, dude, what did that arrow ever do to you?”

Alec whips around, clutching his bow to his chest. Simon’s eyes dart from the broken arrow to Alec, who feels a strange mix between bewildered and elated. 

“Nothing,” Alec says quickly. “I don’t know. What?”

“How did you do that? Have you done this before?” 

“It’s just beginner’s luck,” Alec insists. “I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not judging you!” Simon says quickly. “Anyway, it’s not a bad thing! It’s cool. Really cool. Like, glacier levels of cool. I can’t even hit the target at all, they just bounce off the wall. I think Maia is going to kill me if I get one near her again.”

Maia does look close to murder, Alec thinks, as he looks over at her. She’s eyeing Simon and Alec with a baleful look, and Alec coughs pointedly. Simon spins around and spots her, pasting a bright grin on his face that doesn’t quite hide his fear as he babbles inanely for a few seconds, before giving up and handing over the bow and arrow. 

Alec makes sure Simon isn’t watching him before he fires another arrow. This one, he’s certain, won’t hit the middle of the target. This one will probably hit the outer ring, or the wall behind the target, or—

For a moment, Alec thinks he’s seeing double. The arrow splits in half, right down the middle, and both halves fly through the air. One half buries itself in the outer ring, and the other passes _through_ the target and glances off the wall behind it. 

Alec drops the bow. 

“Mr Lightwood, is there a problem?”

Diana comes up behind him, eyebrows arched in concern. 

“No,” he says softly. It’s just a fluke. “Sorry, I think I’d better get back to my books, actually.” 

Diana looks surprised, and then suspicious. “If you’re sure. Perhaps you can try next time. Maybe the bow and arrow isn’t for you.”

_That’s exactly the problem,_ Alec doesn’t say. _I think it’s perfect for me._

*

Alec comes home and drops his bag off in his room, shedding his school uniform and changing into his usual clothes before heading to the kitchen, where he finds Jace digging through the fridge, a sandwich already in one hand. Max is at the kitchen table, scowling at his homework. 

“What are you looking for?” Alec asks. 

“The Bermuda Triangle,” Jace says. “I thought I saw it in here this morning.”

“It’s behind the cheese,” Max supplies, and Alec levels them both with exasperated looks. 

“Food, obviously,” Jace says, taking a big bite out of his sandwich. Alec looks at him incredulously for a moment, before wondering why he’s surprised. It’s Jace. He snorts and leans over Max’s shoulder to get a good look at his work, which turns out to be a comic. 

“Max, that doesn’t look like math to me.”

“That would be because it’s not math,” Max says. “Jace said I could have a fifteen-minute break.”

“It’s completely slipped my mind that I actually said five minutes,” Jace adds. Max ducks his head to hide a smug grin, and Alec gives up. 

“Where’s Izzy?” 

“She stayed home today. Apparently, she wasn’t feeling too well, so naturally, I refused to go near her,” Jace says. “I made her a sandwich though. It’s on the counter if you want to take it to her.”

Alec pinches the bridge of his nose, and then goes to collect the sandwich. He’s halfway out the door when Max shouts, “She’s supposed to be resting, so she’s probably in the training room.”

“Do your homework,” Alec calls back. Then he lowers his voice and mutters, “At least one of you is helpful.” 

The training room is at the back of the house, next to Robert’s study. Alec doesn’t know how his father gets any work done with the constant banging and crashing going on next door, but he never complains. Although, now that Alec thinks about it, Robert is very rarely home to be bothered by the noise. 

He peers into the training room as he reaches the end of the hall, plate held aloft. Izzy is in full training gear, beating the hell out of a punchbag in the far corner of the room. Her face is twisted in concentration, sweat beading down her temple. 

“I brought you something,” Alec says, leaning against the doorframe of the training room. “Technically, Jace made it, but since he’s too lazy to bring it to you himself, I’m taking full credit.”

Izzy turns her head to look at him, mouth lifting in a tired smile. She holds up five fingers, and Alec smiles back, striding across the room to stand beside her, placing the sandwich down on a nearby table. There are maps spread all over it, and blueprints for several new whip attachments. Behind the table, attached to the wall, is a large map of the world, speckled with little blue and red pins. Alec waits patiently for Izzy to work through whatever’s troubling her, absently reading over the blueprints. He knows his dad is in the business of making weapons for seasoned heroes, ones who can’t just use their powers to fight, or ones who want extra ammunition against the latest crop of villains. There are some strangely-designed swords, a scythe, and a – a bow and arrow. 

Alec bites his lip, thinking back to battle training, earlier that day. He knows he didn’t imagine it, knows he can’t have made that up, but part of him is insistent that he must have. There’s no other option. He doesn’t have powers, and he’s not even sure that firing an arrow through a target constitutes a power. 

It’s possible that there was other interference. Or perhaps the targets had residual magic on them, or maybe the arrows were a new brand of technology, or maybe someone was messing with him, playing a trick. All of it seems much more likely than Alec, of all people, suddenly developing a power. 

“Something weird happened today,” Alec blurts out. Izzy’s hand collides with the punchbag one last time, and then her face shifts into a frown and she stops, lowering her fists. She quirks an eyebrow and waits patiently for Alec to get his thoughts together. She’s always been good with Alec, knowing what he needs and when he needs to be left alone. They’ve always told each other everything, but this, for some reason, feels like something that Alec has to keep a secret. If he’s wrong, and he makes a big fuss out of nothing, then all this will spell out for him is embarrassment. 

“What was it?” Izzy asks, frowning at him in concern when the silence stretches on. “Did something happen with you and Magnus?”

“Besides the usual astronomical amounts of sexual tension?” Jace drawls, from the doorway. He’s finished his sandwich, and is now biting down on an orange slice, the rest held up on a white plate. 

“Jace,” Alec says, sighing heavily. “There’s no sexual tension between me and Magnus.” 

“No,” Izzy says thoughtfully. “Maybe not all the time, but there is romantic tension. You both love each other a lot. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Yes, because we’re best friends,” Alec says, resolutely not thinking about it. 

“Best friends don’t look at each other like that,” Jace says. 

“Like what?”

“Like it physically hurts them to not be touching,” Jace says, ignoring Alec’s pissed off expression. “You both do this longing gaze thing, all the time.” 

Izzy rolls her eyes. “That’s about the gist of it. Is he coming over tonight?” 

“I’m going over to his,” Alec says, still frowning at Jace, who takes an unrepentant bite out of his orange slice. “Anyway, I meant to ask you how you were. You weren’t in school today.” 

Alec is older than Jace and Izzy, so he has different classes, but all the upperclassmen share Battle training, which is where he usually sees both of his siblings kicking ass. 

“I wasn’t feeling too well,” Izzy says. “I had a temperature, but it’s gone down now. Anyway, don’t change the subject. What’s the problem between you and Magnus?” 

Alec sighs. He seems to do a lot of sighing around his siblings. “There is no problem between me and Magnus. The problem was with – something else.”

He trails off awkwardly. Jace stops eating his orange to stare at him suspiciously, and Izzy frowns in concern. 

“Alec?” Jace asks, voice softening. “What’s wrong?” 

Alec opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, there’s a knock on the door. All three of them turn to find Mayrse standing in the doorway, as regal and imposing as ever. She looks strangely awkward as she surveys three of her children critically, examining them like a scientist might regard an experiment. Mayrse is like a star to Alec, burning brightly, but cold and distant at the same time. He knows that the others feel the same way. 

“Max tells me you aren’t feeling well, Isabelle,” Mayrse says. 

Izzy sets her jaw. “I’m fine now. I just needed to take a day off.”

“I’m glad you’re better,” Mayrse says stiffly. “Do all of you have homework to be doing?” 

“Mine’s done,” Alec offers, when the silence stretches on a little too long. “I’m going over to see Magnus, so we can revise.” 

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Jace mutters. 

Alec doesn’t know if Mayrse hears him, but her face goes stony and cold regardless. She purses her lips and stares at him intently, something like disappointment in her eyes. She’s never liked Magnus, not from the first moment she met him. Alec doesn’t tend to bring him home very often, not with the way his parents look at him, or don’t look at him. Magnus doesn’t deserve to be treated like something lesser just because his powers are different, or because of his race, or his sexuality. Alec honestly doesn’t know which of those things Mayrse has more of a problem with, but he suspects it’s the latter. She’s always thought that it was Magnus’ fault, that Alec came out a few years ago. She’s always thought he corrupted him somehow, that someone like Magnus made Alec this way. 

Alec lifts his head and stares back determinedly. He’s not going to give up his friendship with Magnus for anything, not even his parents’ approval. 

“Well, see to it that you’re not out too late,” Mayrse says, turning to leave. “And one of you help Max with his homework. I believe he’s attempting to set fire to his maths book.”

“Shouldn’t that be your job?” Izzy murmurs, but Mayrse doesn’t pause, simply walks away, her heels clicking on the polished floors. 

“Well that was lovely,” Jace says. “Always good to get a bit of family bonding in before dinnertime. Speaking of, what are we having?” 

“I’m having takeaway,” Alec says, striding towards the door and smirking over his shoulder at Jace, who grimaces at him. “Magnus is already ordering it.” 

“Better get your ass in gear then, big brother,” Izzy says, pushing him out of the door. “You wouldn’t want to keep the love of your life waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos on the way out, I'd really appreciate it! And come say hey @thealmostrhetoricalquestion on tumblr, I'd love to hear from you! Thank you :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can't miss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short, the next chapter will be longer and with lots of plot, I just wanted to get this bit out of the way. Thank you!

Grandma Ariel is asleep in the big squashy armchair when Alec pushes open the door to Magnus’ apartment. It’s a spacious place, with big windows that let in lots of light, filled to the brim with antiques and exquisite paintings and potted plants. It always smells of freshly baked bread. Alec feels like he’s in another world behind these walls, a softer, brighter world.

A loud snore breaks the silence, and Alec hides a grin behind his hand as he sidles through the living room. Jazz music echoes quietly from the beat-up old stereo on top of the kitchen counter. There’s a sheet of cookies cooling on the side, and something baking in the oven, adding to the rich, warm scent in the air. Grandma Ariel’s power is something vaguely related to food; Alec’s seen her create it, transform it, multiply it, and simply pull it from the oven seconds before it begins to burn. Powers are supposed to be more specific than Grandma Ariel’s, but the Bane’s have long since abandoned following the rules when it comes to their gifts. 

Alec knocks lightly on the bedroom door and Magnus glances up from where he’s painting his nails, nail varnish and Q-tips and bits of cotton rounds littering the bed, along with small stacks of revision cards. His room is generally remarkably spotless for a teenager, unless he’s doing something, in which case he tends to take over the space he’s in. 

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Magnus says, patting the space on the bed beside him. Alec takes a cushion and sits on the floor instead, Jace and Izzy’s words about sexual tension floating around his head. He usually doesn’t let it get to him, but it’s been a weird day. Magnus gives him a confused look, but lets him have his space, focusing intently on his nails. 

“Your Grandma is asleep, so I tried to be quiet,” Alec says. 

A fond look crosses Magnus’ face. “She’s been cooking all day. There was some sort of fete this afternoon, down near the centre she volunteers at, and they needed food. Since that happens to be her speciality, she volunteered and spent the whole day in front of the oven.” 

“No wonder she’s exhausted then,” Alec agrees. He reaches for the television remote and flicks it on while Magnus hums to himself. The News flickers on, shots of the fight on the Bridge filling the screen. Alec frowns as fire climbs up one of the railings, smothering the area in smoke. The only person he knows who can control fire is Simon, although control is a bit of a stretch, but it’s a pretty strong, uncommon power. The more powerful the gift, the less common they are, so it’s strange to see two Fire Manipulators in Brooklyn. 

“The Circle is getting bolder,” Alec murmurs, watching blue light billow out across the Bridge. There are flashes and small explosions, and at one point a car comes careening through the air and smashes into one of the railings. Alec hopes to God that there weren’t any people inside of it. “The reports say that they’re recruiting younger and younger people.”

“They want people they can control,” Magnus says darkly. “The younger they are, the more impressionable they are. They want people with strong, powerful gifts.” 

_I’m safe, then_ , Alec thinks bitterly. His mind flickers back, unbidden, to Battle Training. He wants to tell Magnus, but there’s a big part of him insisting that he’s simply making things up, that he’s imagining it, as impossible as that seems. He wonders what it all means. He wonders if he could do it again. 

Magnus is staring intensely at a glob of nail varnish on the bed, trying to get it to vanish, so Alec hesitantly reaches over and picks up a Q-tip while his attention is elsewhere. He can see Magnus’ wastepaper basket on the opposite side of the room, next to a stack of textbooks. He fiddles with the Q-tip for a moment, inexplicably nervous, bending it in half. And then, before he can lose his nerve, he tosses it behind him, over his shoulder, eyes fixed on the wastepaper bin. 

_In the bin. In the bin._

There’s no noise. Nothing happens. Alec twists around and frowns at the empty floor behind him, where the Q-tip should have landed, but it’s just a clean cream carpet. Slowly, Alec turns back around and visibly startles when he meets Magnus’ curious eyes. 

“Is something wrong, Alexander? You look quite pale.” 

“I just have to check something,” Alec blurts out, and then he gets clumsily to his feet and clambers across the room to the bin. He accidentally knocks the pile of textbooks to the floor, and he can hear Magnus making strange, worried noises behind him, but he’s too busy focusing on the bin to answer his questions. 

There, at the bottom of the bin, is a bent Q-tip. 

“Was this empty before?” Alec demands, whirling around to face Magnus, who looks taken aback. He peers around Alec curiously and spots the bin, one eyebrow hiking up to his hairline. 

“I emptied it this morning, before I left for school,” Magnus says slowly. “Alec, are you sure you’re alright? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I threw it behind me,” Alec mutters, raking a hand through his hair. “I threw it behind me, but it landed in front of me, in the bin. This doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense, Magnus!”

Magnus swings his legs over the side of the bed and slides smoothly to his feet. He crosses the room in three short strides and cups Alec’s face with his hands, palms soft and cool against Alec’s overheated skin. 

“You need to breathe, slowly, and calm down,” Magnus says quietly. “You’re getting yourself worked up.” 

Alec jitters for a moment, bouncing in place, before he exhales with a deep sigh. He bows his head until his forehead touches Magnus’, who makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but doesn’t pull away. 

“There’s something going on,” Alec says, his voice a little hoarse. Magnus’ face is so close, so concerned, that Alec has to close his eyes. He can feel every breath on his face, feel the pulse in Magnus’ thumbs on his cheeks. “I don’t know what’s happening, if someone’s playing some kind of trick or if there’s something bigger going on, but I can’t explain it. And now I feel stupid, like I’m overreacting, or being dramatic.” 

“Hey,” Magnus says lightly. “As someone who prides themselves on being as dramatic as possible, I feel like I have the authority to tell you to stop feeling that way. If it’s distressing you, then it’s worthy of that distress. Come on, come and sit down.”

Alec reluctantly pulls away, a half-smile on his face when Magnus simply slides one of his hands down Alec’s face and grips his fingers instead, tugging him towards the bed. He sweeps the nail polish and general debris off to the side and pulls Alec onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard with their hands clasped between them. 

“Talk, whenever you’re ready,” Magnus says, squeezing his hand. “Just start at the beginning.” 

So, Alec tells him. He tells him about the arrows hitting dead-centre every time, and flying through the target and bouncing off the wall only when he thought about it bouncing off the wall. And then he explains about the Q-tip, and how it landed in front of him, in the bin, all because he was thinking about the bin, even though he threw it behind him.

At the end of it, Magnus purses his lips and stares thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment. Then he reaches over and grabs a nail file off the bed, handing it to Alec. 

“I just want to try something,” Magnus says soothingly, when Alec looks a little panicked. Then he gets up, picks up the bin, and places it outside the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He crawls back towards the bed and looks intently at Alec. 

“I believe you,” he says. “I just want to see it work for myself. And I think you need someone else to see it to start believing it. So, throw the nail file wherever you want, but think about it landing in the bin.” 

“But it’s behind the door,” Alec says. 

“The wall was behind the target.” 

“But what if it doesn’t work?” 

“I think the point is to believe that it will work,” Magnus says. “And if it doesn’t work, that doesn’t mean you imagined the rest of it. It means something is interfering, or someone’s playing a trick, and we can go from there. Just give it a try.” 

Alec swallows thickly, and then straightens up, throwing the nail file straight up at the ceiling before his nerves can get the better of him. Both he and Magnus watch it arc towards the ceiling, and then there’s something, a blur, and the nail file switches directions, shooting towards the door with impossible speed, passing through the wood. 

Magnus gets slowly off the bed and moves to open the door, peering down into the wastepaper bin on the other side in shock. He bends down, and when he comes back up, the nail file is clutched in his hand. He looks at Alec, eyes wide. 

“You can’t miss,” Magnus says, stunned. 

“I can’t miss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much! Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought, I'd love to hear from you. And come say hey @thealmostrhetoricalquestion on tumblr if you like! Thank you :)

**Author's Note:**

> How was that? i hope you liked it! Next chapter up soon! Please leave a comment/kudos and let me know what you thought, I'd love to hear from you. And come say hello on tumblr @thealmostrhetoricalquestion :) Thank you so much!
> 
>  


End file.
